My son, my son [01] borne from the war
We trade shovels for swords [02]
My son, my son, inherit the earth, [03] inhabit the wound
Oh how far we fall…we fall [04]
My love, my love [05] captive to lusts: consumed
My love, my love buried beneath the vile machine [06]
The earth with a final gasp shook free from our inventions
Grace and nature [07] reconciled I heard, “It is finished.”
The final seal was broken, the concussion blew me back - I teetered on the edge of re-creation and the wrath
Nine Lovers stumbled out from their shells of brokenness
They reached inside their wounds to find the seeds borne from their suffering
Coalesce upon me to plant the tree of life [08] inside the heart of the machine. [09]
Reach inside - heal the wound - make us whole [10]
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